


Bonding exercises

by Segolène (SecretSegolene)



Category: Tokyo Babylon
Genre: Just softies trusting each other, M/M, blindfold, no story, pure indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretSegolene/pseuds/Segol%C3%A8ne
Summary: Our lovers appreciate a small dynamic reversal.
Relationships: Sakurazuka Seishirou/Sumeragi Subaru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Bonding exercises

**Author's Note:**

> The scene was supposed to be light bondage, but it’s not even that in the end! Please go wild if you have a mind to do this a little more justice. Title pun completely intended though.

“Try it. I won’t do anything else. You can take it off straight away if you don’t like it.”

Seishirou looked distinctly skeptical. Perhaps it was something else. He relented nevertheless. With great distaste, he allowed Subaru, kneeling naked in the hollow between his thighs, to place a silk scarf over his closed eyes. 

Subaru fussed for a few moments with the knot. Seishirou felt every slight movement like a blaring signature on a radar. Once tied, Subaru guided the loose end over Seishirou’s shoulder and fed it into his open palm. 

“Pull this once and it will untie. Have I tied it too tight?”

Consciously unclenching his jaw before speaking, Seishirou replied that it felt perfectly fine. 

“OK,” Subaru’s voice said. Without such a thing as vision, Seishirou imagined nevertheless that he could see him clearly still. With porcelain features of focus and concern, the image of Subaru sat back on his heels and his bare hands rested loosely in his lap, palms up and open. 

Seishirou felt the dip of the mattress and heard the rustle of skin on fabric. The dark behind his eyelids deepened. Subaru had leaned forward with the heel of one hand on the coverlet, supporting him as his breath grazed Seishirou’s skin. Seishirou’s senses were on high alert and his nerves screamed for control. He gripped the end of the scarf tightly in a palm dampened with sweat. He was the master of his choices. He chose not to resist. 

Subaru in Seishirou’s composite vision took his time. From the fleeting imprints of breath, cool and shallow, on his knuckles, ear and collar, Seishirou imagined cautious, captive curiosity tinged with the headiness of control. Subaru was enjoying a novel kind of power, and handled it like the fragile gift that it was. 

For the longest time, it was only with a trail of breath and the blind weight of Subaru’s gaze that he took in the creases and contours of skin, muscle and bone. Far from the first time that Seishirou had let himself be seen - even admired - it felt, nevertheless, like the first time he had really let himself be looked at. 

In turns, Subaru’s breath and trailing fingertips were felt like a warm caress and like a static shock. They tickled his chest and ribs, skimmed across the blades of his shoulders, and maddeningly tested the points of his teeth and the hard edge of his jaw. 

Seishirou knuckles clicked with the effort not to clench both hands into tight, stubborn fists. His centre for sense and instinct was on fire; his blood ran like a melting glacier. Never in his work had he endured disquiet such as this. But he would endure it, and no fragment of that endurance would show. He was the master of his mind and body. Subaru would not harm him. He firmed the thought into resolve. With deliberate steadiness, he neither tightened nor loosened his grip on the damp silk. 

When Subaru’s lips pressed at last into the hollow beneath his throat, Seishirou constricted his vocal organs harshly to still any unbidden inhale or sound that might traitorously rise. Every muscle was tensed to the limit. At the moment of foreign contact, alive to the twin shackles of darkness and stubborn obedience, they yielded to a barely perceptible tremor. 

“Are you OK?”

Seishirou could only grunt in answer. For all his fight to tell his body that Subaru would not allow him harm, he could neither tolerate being treated so gently like a grounded bird or frightened animal. Past the distanced blur of adrenaline and the chastising shouts of blood in his eardrums, Seishirou did not trust himself to speak with all his prided self-possessed ease. All he could do was hold his instincts and muscles still. He wished Subaru had tied a much tighter knot. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

Sweet, flawless Subaru was asking him the question. Seishirou wanted to stop. Seishirou wanted his imprinted instincts to listen to him and back down. Seishirou was better than this. 

“You won’t harm me,” Seishirou said, holding onto some miraculous evenness of expression, “I know. My body will get used to it, so continue.”

As you wish, the imagined tender smile seemed to say. 

Seishirou pushed out the tips of his senses further. He listened, mostly, but also tuned his feeling to notice more keenly the movements of air on his skin - its temperature, intensity and its subtle changes. As he focused on the sounds of the room, he found the darkness did not obscure so much after all. He held onto the thought like a ground wire. 

Seishirou felt the rough fabric of his bedding pressed beneath his ankles, the backs of his feet, his shins and knees. He heard the clock in the hallway. The incline of Subaru’s posture, now obvious, gave sense and context to the sound of his breathing and the slow motions of his upper body. 

Shadows changed depth behind his closed eyelids. Subaru and the room formed themselves with startling clarity, and all at once he felt confident that he could guess the small variances of expression that would be shaping and remoulding his mouth, eyes and brow. 

How could he not be aware, in addition, of the length and width of his own bed, his own bedroom with the fixtures and fallen clothes with which he was more than thoroughly familiar? An intermittent ripple of air told him that his blinds were about three quarters closed. 

After that, the images flowed together with reassuring ease. While Subaru pressed light kisses on Seishirou’s wrist, into the crook of his elbow, on the back of his hand, Seishirou assessed the pressure of those lips, their shape, texture and plumpness. The image matched his memory and he was satisfied. He knew, he wanted, and he welcomed. 

Removing one hand from Subaru’s light grip, he reached up with a small glimmer of amusement for the wayward lock of hair that he thought he could pinpoint just behind Subaru’s left ear. He smiled as he caught it, and smoothed out the bunched up strands. 

Seishirou’s fingers slipped underneath the soft crop of Subaru’s hair and hooked around the back of his head, with one pinky resting on the nape of neck. Both ends of the silk scarf dangled freely. 

He felt the skin and muscles low in Subaru’s face shift in the shape a smile. Seishirou, despite himself, offered something similar. 

“See?” he said. “I told you.” 

Then he commanded, “Continue.”

Subaru continued.


End file.
